2008 Woodie Awards
"From the Bleacher Seats"
Impressions of the National Basketbrawl Association
Raanan Lefkovitz
Issue date: 12/6/04 Section: Sports
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The good news for the NBA is that its players produced probably the most riveting piece of video footage we may ever see. The bad news: it was a recording of professional basketball behemoths pounding the living daylights out of unsuspecting Detroit Pistons fans at The Palace of Auburn Hills. Fair trade? Not so much. But don't think that Commissioner David Stern and his concerned cohorts are reeling as much as they would have us believe.
Personally, the next time I see highlights of Ron Artest choke holding that guy he presumed guilty, or Jermaine O'Neal clocking that pudgy Pistons fan in the face, it will not be soon enough. I simply cannot get tired of watching it. Just visualizing it gets my adrenaline flowing.
I was so inspired last week that, at my cousin's aufruf, I kept the candy bag for myself and instead pelted him with a shot glass of Chivas. He turned around and confronted some innocent congregant while his groomsman indiscriminately beat up the entire front row for allegedly trying to start a breakaway minyan. My cousin now is not allowed to touch his new wife for 73 days.
Ok, that didn't actually happen, but I can make light of the situation. I understand however why many cannot.
The NBA is made up of players who don't seem to realize that they are paid not just to perform for their team, but also not to do things that count against it. It should have been obvious to any fan that this year's NBA season was heading down the wrong track.
Just two weeks before the Motown mayhem, Ron Artest requested a two week vacation from the Indiana Pacers in order to promote an all girl R&B group whose album he produced. He later asked a reporter what the word integrity meant.
At around the same time Latrell Sprewell, earning $14.6 million just this season, demanded a new contract from Minnesota claiming, "I've got a family to feed."
Slam dunk champion, Vince Carter told the Toronto Sun last week, "I don't want to dunk anymore."
Personally, the next time I see highlights of Ron Artest choke holding that guy he presumed guilty, or Jermaine O'Neal clocking that pudgy Pistons fan in the face, it will not be soon enough. I simply cannot get tired of watching it. Just visualizing it gets my adrenaline flowing.
I was so inspired last week that, at my cousin's aufruf, I kept the candy bag for myself and instead pelted him with a shot glass of Chivas. He turned around and confronted some innocent congregant while his groomsman indiscriminately beat up the entire front row for allegedly trying to start a breakaway minyan. My cousin now is not allowed to touch his new wife for 73 days.
Ok, that didn't actually happen, but I can make light of the situation. I understand however why many cannot.
The NBA is made up of players who don't seem to realize that they are paid not just to perform for their team, but also not to do things that count against it. It should have been obvious to any fan that this year's NBA season was heading down the wrong track.
Just two weeks before the Motown mayhem, Ron Artest requested a two week vacation from the Indiana Pacers in order to promote an all girl R&B group whose album he produced. He later asked a reporter what the word integrity meant.
At around the same time Latrell Sprewell, earning $14.6 million just this season, demanded a new contract from Minnesota claiming, "I've got a family to feed."
Slam dunk champion, Vince Carter told the Toronto Sun last week, "I don't want to dunk anymore."